I have what’s often disparagingly referred to by nongardeners as a “high-maintenance” garden. News flash, folks: There is no other kind. If you define your garden as “low maintenance,” you have what is often disparagingly referred to by gardeners as “landscraping.” (We all have our disparaging terms, don’t we?) Gardens are, by their very definition, labor intensive. Per my beloved M.-W.:
garden /gärd-әn/ 1 a : a plot of ground where herbs, fruits, flowers, or vegetables are cultivated
And, to clarify:
cultivate /kәl-tә-vāt/ 2 c : to improve by labor, care, or study : refine
There you have it. Don’t say no one ever told you. (And, in case you’re forgetful, like me, the wonderful women at Garden Rant will happily remind you of it every day.)
But to those of us who love to work the land, that’s part of the game. We’re addicted to it—to watching things grow that we lovingly tend; to helping nature by providing food and shelter to its wildlife; to (hopefully) beautifying what could be just another fertilizer-chugging suburban lawn or depression-inducing urban wasteland. It’s a noble job, frankly, and I’m happy to put in my time. All that I get in return is payment enough, from the buzzing bees, flitting butterflies, and chirping birds to the fragrant flowers, cooling shade, and humble harvests. Life is good in a garden.
But, well, I have another job, too; one that requires just as much time and effort (more, really). I try to cut back on gardening, but it’s impossible. Have you seen those cute pansies dying (literally!) to be planted? How can I resist that lonesome tomato plant withering at the home center instead of thriving in my home’s veggie patch? And don’t even get me started on those end-of-season sales on perennials! I can’t let them go to waste, now, can I??
So, here are just a few of the things blooming in my garden. Not counting flowering shrubs and trees. Or vegetables. All since February. And all on barely a quarter acre.
High maintenance, indeed.
